


In The Night

by Abby_Ebon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 05:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slash, RononxJohnx?Ford. AU. After being bitten by the Iratus bugs, John Sheppard has had nightmares of being a Wraith. With each passing night, they seem to be getting more intense, until one day, John’s eyes turn Wraith black…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As A Wraith

**-This means a change in scenery has occurred. –**

"Spoken aloud by anyone."

" _Spoken aloud by anyone, but over a communications device and/or radio_."

: _John's Thoughts_. : (John's 'human' thoughts, and telepathic communication with other Wraith)

 ** _'Wraith-John's' thoughts,_** **_(to John, and other Wraith)._**

 **The Wraith's telepathic communication with each other, and with John**.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

John glanced across the mat at his sparring partner, Ronon wasn't winded by the nearly three hours of heavy exercise, and even though John was bone-weary, he refused to give up. Ronon could take it, John knew that, but he looked about ready to start questioning John's need to abuse him self into a worse condition then any mission could put him in.

Even if John knew it _was_ insanity to have been sparring for ten hours without a break, but, John didn't _want_ to stop. That would mean having to sleep – and, 'sleep' had turned into the worst point in the 30-hour day cycle on Atlantis.

The one time he wanted to avoid with avid interest. If, Dr. Weir confessed to him about needing extra guards around after dark for a few weeks - sign him up. If not he'd volunteer, or try to spar with someone all night. Because, sleeping these days, meant dreams; and _those_ he woke from shuddering, and afraid of what he _could_ have become if the trick with the Iratus bugs hadn't worked.

So it had become a regular, if worrying event for Atlantis personal to see John on his off-shift in the gym or training rooms. The first five hours of his off-shift was spent disciplining the military men who'd done something stupid to upset their commanding officer that day – usually by making them each spar with him, and letting them have the worst of it.

All _that_ served to do was remind him they needed better training – and there was no one else other then John who could authorize it.

Then right before he'd get a chance to go to Weir, Teyla would come around, and they'd be dismissed, then scamper off to do what normal Atlantis military personal did; Teyla, though, would staff-fight with him for three or so hours before handing him over to Ronon. So it had become a routine, and after a few month of this, now no one had questioned it.

"Maybe we should stop for tonight, Sheppard." Ronon suggested, still in a fighting stance. John shook his head, his brown hair, matted with sweat, now hanging in front of his eyes; boldly he charged in, just to prove he could, Ronon – somehow, had expected it, and dodged away, John kicked – Ronon dropped and knocked his feet out from under him.

John landed with a grunt, hitting his back hard enough to wind him. Ronon, seeing this had stunned him, cursed softly under his breath and stood – reaching down to help him up. John took his hand, letting the other man pull him up, not even pausing to lift the bulk of John's weight.

"Are you alright?" Ronon asked, eyes skimming over John's thinner frame, checking for injuries in the way John held himself.

"Oh, I'll be fine, Ronon; you just surprised me is all." John assured him, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder, even with it Ronon had become tensed and wary, and not even John's idiotic 'good o' boy' smile could distracting a wary Ronon.

"You're sure then, that you don't want to sleep soon?" Ronon asked of him, dark eyes that were like tunnels to the center of the earth, digging into John.

John looked aside, shrugging. The fact was that John had had to learn to ignore the way Ronon's chest heaved and the sweat that glistened on his chest and arms with every movement. Ronon's limits seemed beyond those of mortal men, so John's willingness to challenge him served to amuse Ronon, if not 'keep him in shape' – or so he claimed.

The thoughts and feelings that flew through John's mind at times startled him, those too, he had found he had to ignore as they sparred. Sometimes, it was only a desire for Ronon to touch him outside of a spar, other time to pin Ronon to the mat – and once John had done so, and had only thoughts of kissing Ronon – of course, Ronon, being Ronon, had taken advantage of John's fascination with the idea and had turned it against him.

"Nah, I'm good to go for a half hour more at least." John whispered instead, knowing even as he said it that he would be lucky to last half that long against Ronon in his current state. Ronon having heard his faint words snorted his own disbelief, his dark eyes still watching him, and John could feel them running over his body and measuring it.

"If you say so…" Ronon grunted, and attacked again, a brief struggle of blurred attacks and defenses and John found himself _again_ on the mat – pinned and straddled by a smirking Ronon. An alertness that had little to do with not wanting to sleep – even if he knew, _somehow_ , that dawn was approaching, feel between them.

John shook it off first, grinning winningly up at Ronon, who seemed frozen above him. Ronon breathed in deeply, leaning down to inhale John's scent – his nostrils flaring as he took in the smell.

"Are you alright, Ronon?" John questioned of him, and Ronon seemed to realize what he was doing, and pulled himself away. For the fleetingness of a moment, John wished Ronon hadn't. Then it was gone, and John was again being pulled up from the mat, and this time, it looked like Ronon was intent on it being the last time for tonight.

"I'm…fine. That's enough for tonight." Ronon spoke, and left John standing, rather baffled, on the training mat. Eventually, and left alone, John knew he had no choice in going to sleep that night. So, rather tremulously John went to his rooms, laid down…and fell to his dreams.

He walked, as he knew he would, in the night; his boots striking out against distinctly eerie silence of the empty halls. He knew himself to be of power and a cruel grace in every predicted step, in every movement, it all seemed… rehearsed night after night.

As Death incarnate he walked the halls, unchallenged, for he knew that nothing here in this ancient place could challenge him, in the here and now in Atlantis. Not that part Wraith female and no one else could stop him from wondering this very hall.

He was John Sheppard – but he was something _else_ , something better. He was _perfection_ , better then the ancient and weakened Wraith, and far superior then the humans they fed on, and yet, John Sheppard made it his life's mission to protect them. So, He, who walked in the night, did as well. Yet, despite being much more then human or Wraith, he knew he had been partly created by both.

Suddenly, as he always did at this point, he stopped – listening to hear the _something_ he had sensed.

Tilting his head back, and leaning against the wall, he caught a stray scent, and inhaled deeply. His eyes flashed to the eerie, all-encompassing black of the Wraith, and he licked his lips. Starting in the direction the scent originated from, his body shivering with both a hungry sensual need, and a twisted form of what the John Sheppard in him recognized as a lust to possess, and to, surprisingly, protect.

In the genetic information passed by the Wraith John _knew_ this scent - as 'prey' – for it was human, but it wasn't, it was much more to him then just human prey. In the early history of the Wraith, they had been symbiotic with humans - and prey - or Runners, had been the most suitable of symbiotic partners.

Something in his blood stirred at this Runner's tantalizing taste, and the scent led him to the Runner's room. John recognized it as Ronon's and - without hesitation; he stepped through the doorway, and eyed the Runner's prone form.

Walking silently, almost gliding, he covered the distance between doorway and bed, hovering above the Runner. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the Runner's – Ronon's, whose eyes snapped open, and John saw from within his eyes what John had become – _a Wraith_.

John Sheppard awoke, blue eyes snapping open to the darkness of his room. John sighed, a soft breath of noise, turning to his side to see the faint traces of dawn's approach. Left with little choice, he sat up in bed, cradling his head in his hands. In the morning-after of the dreams, he could admit to himself the truth…that, ever since Ellia and the Iratus bugs, he'd had dreams, _and_ hadn't felt quite… as _normal_ , as he had before.

 _Not_ , that he was going to tell anyone this, the way they had treated him as the changes had occurred - and the looks he'd gotten afterward, had driven _that_ notion out of his mind. Still, the dreams – or even nightmares, they felt like they were so much… _more_. Both in their intensity and what really worried him the most, was the more often he had them the more he'd been unable to tell what was real sometimes, and what wasn't.

Carefully, as if it might summon back the dream, he drew in a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair, and feeling almost paranoid he checked the slightly scaly - but _nearly_ healed bite.

: _Come on Sheppard, pull it together._ : He urged himself, he couldn't, after all, go out and perform his duties if he was tearing himself apart after a _dream_. Unwillingly, his eyes strayed to the bite. : _Beckett knows his stuff - and wouldn't have let you out unless a hundred percent sure you're cured and not turning into some sort of super Wraith_. : His lips twitched in ironic amusement at being reduced to comforting himself out of a nightmare.

Shaking off his doubts, he stood, inwardly cringing as his bare feet met the icy cold floor, hurriedly, he dressed – the soaks going on first – he left his hair as it was, no one would really notice the difference. With a soft sigh, he left his room, heading to the designated mess hall.

As he entered the kitchen, among the nods of greeting and the waves, he found himself glancing around for familiar faces. Almost upon looking for them, he saw Teyla and McKay sitting at the same table and eating together. Well, Teyla was eating, McKay was talking - or possibly ranting, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Caldwell leave.

: _Good riddance, Colonel. :_ John thought at the balding silver haired man, for he didn't feel like he could deal with _that_ man this early in the morning. While John had been distracted, Beckett had joined McKay and Teyla, and they still hadn't noticed him. Not that he minded, this early in the morning, and _especially_ after a vivid 'nightmare' he, well, he just couldn't deal with the ideal breakfast chitchat like he used to.

Absentmindedly, he agreed to whatever the mess cook had said about the food, as he got his breakfast, and walked to a table that had a full view of the mess room. For some reason, he always felt better when he could watch over them. Settling down and picking up a fork, eating seemed to have become something automatically done – for he couldn't seem to taste it, just eating for the sheer nutritional value he gained from it.

Most of his attention was on watching everyone with half minded paranoia; this was a skill John hadn't mastered till after he had been bitten. : _Gah…'Bitten', I sound like a romantic novel about a misunderstood werewolf, or love stricken vampire_. : John's lips twitched slightly at the thought, as his eyes flickering over the masses once more. Only then did John allow himself a half-bemused smile, his gaze settling on the closest thing he could come to truthfully calling a family – for they were more then just his team – or friends.

Beckett had joined McKay in his rant – or perhaps they were in the midst's of a heated debate, one that no one in that horde of military personal understood. Teyla looked torn between staying to watch (like many in the mess hall were) - or going to the training rooms. Even if you didn't understand what the said; their body language was the most interesting part. Intensely – they either waved their hands about in gestures, or leaned into together, agreeing.

John was startled out of watching them when his fork met his empty plate; he looked down to see he'd eaten it all – again, without realizing it - or tasting any of it...but, perhaps that was for the best. The mess only made him nervous and twitchy, he only came in because he'd be missed, and he did not like to think of his family worrying over him. Standing, he returned the utensils and plate to the mess cook, and left the hall.

For, unlike Teyla, he had no wish to watch the two bickering doctors - no matter how amusing they might be. He had duties to get to, striding down the halls, John made his way to where he thought Weir might be - the Gate Room. Almost as predictably as clockwork, she was there with Colonel Caldwell, he mentally shrugged off his feelings of unease, and approached them.

"Ah, Sheppard, how did you sleep tonight?" Weir asked, knowing he had a bad time of it, ever hoping he'd open up and tell her the problem so she could 'fix it'; Caldwell merely nodded in his direction, a disdainful sneer partly across his lips as he surveyed John's appearance.

"Morning Dr. Weir, Colonel, it was well enough." Sheppard said lying through his teeth with his usual grin. Weir was not fooled, but Caldwell didn't care either way. Except if his lack of sleep led him to make poor decisions, and then Caldwell wouldn't hesitate to take his command from him. So far, it didn't – luckily.

"Good to hear. The Wraith seemed to have halted for the time being, anything you'd like to suggest we'd do while we have the time?" Weir mused absently; Caldwell made a noise that could have been taken for an agreement.

 ** _They should, if those measly excuses for enemies invade my territory….They will bleed…_** A part of his mind hissed, that 'voice' was so eerily like himself in his nightmares, that it made John forget for an instant where he was, and just _who_ he was.

"Sheppard, did you hear me?" Caldwell asked in an annoyed tone, with it, John found himself snapping back to 'himself'; John shook his head, somewhat shaken, and Caldwell gave him a tight-lipped smile.

" _As I was saying_ , it would be in our best interest to find out _why_ the Wraith have paused in their race to get to Earth, don't you _agree_?" **_They fear me._** The voice growled in answer, feeding John an urge to _seek_ the Wraith out, and _chase_ them from his territory. In response, John obeyed the urge – unthinkingly.

"Yes, would get me the nearest puddle jumper coordinates, and I'll… ready my team." John half ordered as he dismissed himself, and went to get Teyla and McKay - and find Ronon, who he had a feeling was in the workout room.

John didn't notice Weir and Caldwell exchange glances behind his back. John hadn't realized it yet, but in the eyes of the others, he was acting out of character – and far more reckless then he had been. John, at least before the Wraith-bugs, would have heard them out, _before_ going head long into something.

John went back to the cafeteria first, and sure enough Rodney, and Teyla, were still there. Both glanced up when he entered the mess hall - and he nodded to them, cocking his chin toward the door to let them know he wanted to talk to them.

"Is there a problem, John?" Rodney asked speciously, John couldn't help but give the two of them a bemused smile, which earned him a concerned look from Teyla. He _never_ smiled before a serious mission. Joked, and used sarcasm, _sure_ , but never smiled like _that_.

"No, Weir just wants us to go puddle jumping - and try to find out why the Wraith have stalled." With a wave, he turned, and went to seek out Ronon.

Leaving two members of his team confused, Rodney frowned after John; with a pensive Teyla beside him, they went to seek answers from Weir and Caldwell.


	2. Wraith Black Eyes

After such an odd encounter with John, Rodney had entered Dr. Weir's office with a determination to get to the bottom of things, and something very close to a frown on his face. Teyla looked to be uneasy with the prospect of bothering Weir, for she had a feeling she _knew_ the cause of John's worrying behavior, having sensed something 'not right' about John since the encounter with the Iratus bugs …

" Elizabeth, we need to talk, it's about John, but when _isn't_ it?" Despite his sarcasm, Dr. Weir could tell Rodney was concerned - it was merely in his nature to use sarcasm to defend himself from what could be bad news.

"Perhaps it is a lack of sleep?" Dr. Elizabeth Weir suggested, having been expecting them since John had left her to gather his team. Teyla and Rodney shared a look, Rodney motioning for Teyla to add in her own words.

"Yes, John seems to be behaving … _strangely_." Teyla added, stressing the word, her concern echoing in her tone. Dr. Weir's arms crossed over her chest, her eyes going over the two of them, a frown lines marring her brow.

"What are you two suggesting?" Elizabeth asked of them; Rodney took a breath, gathering his thoughts – then pushing them into the light.

"Yes, well, _perhaps_ it is lack of sleep; _but_ it might be a reemergence of _Wraith DNA_." Rodney breathed out in a hurry, letting the suggestion fall to the silence. His body was tensed, expecting their lips to spill out with a rush of denials and excuses for John's behavior.

Dr. Weir's eyes lowered, her thoughts on what could have been - perhaps she _should_ have had Beckett look over John more closely, instead of just sending him on another mission so eagerly, hurrying to reassure her people that John was still on their side – even though he had claimed to feel fine, perhaps he hadn't been.

Then there had been their earlier encounter, while John was easy going, he was never so disrespectful of her authority. Especially not in front of Caldwell, he knew to step lightly around the man since he had nearly taken over John's position. Yet John had seemed almost eager at the possibility of facing off against the Wraith, and _that_ was unlike him.

"I have sensed _something_ of the Wraith… when I am near him." Teyla suddenly admitted, if very reluctantly, Rodney's skin color went ashen. Elizabeth felt her stomach leap in her throat; she swallowed down her sudden fears.

"Well that's _fantastic_ news," Rodney hissed a note of hysteria in his voice, eyes narrowed as he turned to Teyla, "when, _exactly_ , did you plan to tell us we might _die_ from touching John?" Rodney bit out sarcastically.

"Ronon and I agreed when we started to notice; we would not let it go that far." Teyla told them as she flinched a bit, her eyes falling to the floor. Rodney froze, her words sinking into him.

"Oh, and I suppose you think that you two _killing_ him, would be all that better from _not telling us_?" Rodney spit out, having turned to his teammate to confront her. Teyla's eyes narrowed on him, and even if they were about the same height, Rodney felt suddenly inches smaller.

"We've tried your way – science _did not work_ , and Ronon and I will not see him experimented on or locked in a cage – he deserves better. There are those among my people who have Wraith blood mixed within their own, as mine is – we live very productive lives without killing our fellow humans." Teyla said – quickly adding the last part before Rodney could interrupt her. Rodney groaned, shaking his head – which made Teyla press her lips together, angry that he thought her so primitive.

All the while, Elizabeth looked between them, aware that she had to stop their fighting, but not knowing how. John would have stopped it before Rodney had raised his voice, or Teyla had gotten a chance to move from her normally calm state, to this warrior mindset that Rodney and Elizabeth, both being scientists in their own way, could not grasp.

"If we know that the Wraith DNA is emerging again, as you claim, then there might be more time! Do you think we would have _wanted_ him to be in a cage?" Rodney exclaimed, throwing his arms up at how unreasonable Teyla seemed to be concerning the matter.

"Well, what else are we to think? Do you not remember? You were all certainly _very_ eager to shove him into one – replace him, and then forget about him the last time!" Teyla snarled as she came closer into Rodney's personal space, but before he could say anything, Elizabeth stepped between them – shooting Rodney a glare, but he didn't even try to look at all repentant.

"Can we _think_ for a moment, _children_?" Elizabeth asked of them, Rodney grunted an agreement, and Teyla nodded.

"Now, what if it is _not_ an emergence? It may be residue from the whole ordeal." Elizabeth suggested, unwilling to believe John would still be affected by the Wraith DNA, and not tell them – or confide in her.

"I do not believe this is the case, for the feeling has been growing slowly stronger since the Iratus bugs." Teyla added to defend herself, Elizabeth nodded slowly - reluctantly, admitting to herself that if she had been in John's place, she might have tried to hide it as well.

"Perhaps, it is for the best that after Beckett looks him over, we should have him confined, at least until Teyla no longer ' _feels'_ anything from him." Col. Steven Caldwell - who she had seen arrive only _after_ she had calmed them, stepped forward into her office with _that_ unwelcome suggestion. Nonetheless, Elizabeth stared at Caldwell in skepticism. Teyla who had long ago stood back, now was watching the three of them stonily, Rodney glanced back at her, his expression closed.

"If Beckett _does_ find anything that is a possibility… _However_ , let's remember that Teyla's abilities are an unknown indicator of John's condition." Rodney argued with him, still upset with Teyla and choosing to forget that John had always trusted Teyla's gut instincts more then any scientific equipment.

"As McKay said, my powers are relatively unknown - even to myself. He looks normal still. I did not want to alarm anyone, it might be nothing." Teyla interrupted, not wanting them to have an excuse with her abilities to lock John up.

"Still _looks_ normal? What about how he _acts_? He could be going through some sort of psychological breakdown with all the Wraith, Ancient, and human DNA inside of him!" Rodney argued suddenly spilt between the possibilities, and at this thought, Elizabeth suddenly looked uneasy, remembering that other then herself…John had full access to Atlantis, and probably knew a bit more about it then she did - Elizabeth sighed rubbing the bridge of her nose, knowing that a visit to Dr. Beckett was the only thing that could be done.

"We can't go and presume anything, Rodney. I'll have Beckett look him over - that's all that we can do." Weir said softly, Caldwell looked about to challenge her opinion, then stopped himself with the looks on their faces. As they left for the medical bay, Caldwell walked behind them; slowly a smirk crossed his face – his eyes flashing white for a moment, then returning to their normal brown.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

**-With John and Ronon.-**

When John walked into the training room, Ronon was practicing, John, knowing from experience not to interrupt him, watched. Ronon moved like a dancer as he fought, no movement was wasted, and every step and motion was calculated for the greatest effect. It took John's breath away, the power and wild abandon that he felt lurking just beneath the surface of Ronon's every action.

After a time under John's silent gaze, Ronon had sensed his presence, and knowing the other man hadn't interrupted his practice because he had once voiced a wish to see it finished. Ronon decided to let him see the end of it - with a final violent thrust of his staff, a grin playing over his lips, he swung around, catching John off guard – the staff hovering just over his midsection.

John looked down at him – distinctly puzzled, for to him Ronon had been a blur. Ronon couldn't help but chuckle at John's expression as he stood, leaning against the practice staff. His eyes were on John, who seemed unaware of his carelessly handsome appearance, the tussled brown hair, and his eyes carelessly going over Ronon's form, and then looking over the training room with some approval.

 _This_ , Ronon mused with some amusement, _is how he always looks day-to-day_. So it was no wonder Teyla had once said to Ronon, upon seeing him look glazed-eyed at John through one of the clear windows of the Ancestors, even as John had worked with Elizabeth and another team; that Ronon would either get used to it, or fell in love with him, and hope John didn't notice.

Because if John _did_ notice – and didn't know how he felt about the one who'd 'fallen in love' with him, in turn, he would spend days moping about – even if the other person didn't know about it.

All John's efforts going into trying to discover how he felt about the other person, usually this resulted in those who 'loved' John becoming worried about him – and with John deciding to just 'be friends'. So Teyla had claimed to see time and time again, in the time Ronon had been with them, he had noticed the same trend.

Nothing about John's appearance changed often – so Ronon found himself believing that John was just one of the lucky – or unlucky few who were admired, and didn't always catch onto why. Although, despite his appearance, John had other great qualities, his piloting skills – his sense of humor (although some claimed this was a hindrance, Ronon admitted, if only to himself, that he thought John's antics amusing), and his ability to bring people together – like his team.

" Elizabeth has asked that the team to puddle jump to a Wraith site." John told him, when Ronon raised an eyebrow at how silent John had been. Ronon grunted, passing John to get to his jacket – he didn't notice the other man's frame tense – John's nose flaring at Ronon's scent.

 ** _Our Runner…Ours_** …The voice hissed, throwing out an image from the dream to John's mind eye, of the kiss that could have been – yet never was. John found himself thinking of Ronon, of his firm hands running over John, of his lips, and of drowning in his body and scent.

"John, are you coming?" Ronon asked, to his eyes John was staring into the distance at nothing in particular but to the other side of the training mats, his fists clenched by his side. A find tremor went along John's spine, at hearing Ronon call his name. Nonetheless, John _had_ heard him, and felt he ought to respond – so he blinked, and shook his head, all the while Ronon was frowning at his back.

"I'll be there soon." John said his voice a bit husky… ** _Give in…Ours_** …

: _No...Not now, please, not now!_ : John begged of the darker voice echoing in his mind, feeling himself giving over to the seductive essence of it. He shivered for a different reason, the power he felt in his dreams running through him, distancing him self from reality.

 _There is something wrong with him.._.Ronon thought, for he had noticed the dark rings under John's eyes – bold proof of the lack of sleep he'd been getting; Ronon also knew about the Wraith surfacing within John.

"John," Ronon called to his friend, and John – hearing it like a faint echo, tilted his head at him, and blinked, "I think you ought to come with me." Ronon finished soothingly, for when John had lifted his lids, his had been utterly black, with not a sign of another color.

Ronon had struggled with himself not to show any hostile reactions, if John had noticed, it had not been enough to clear the haze of power from his mind.

"Sure, Ronon, whatever you say." John said airily, even as Ronon guided him out of the training room, down the halls leading him to the med bay. Ronon found he was avoiding looking directly into John's eyes; for Ronon _hated_ the Wraith, but he wanted none of _those_ feelings to mix with his friendship – and hopeful dreams of being something more, with John.

"Ronon, why are we going to the med bay?" John asked of him, his tone alike to a child's asking its parent why they were going to the doctor when promised candies, Ronon suppressed a shudder, hoping John did not notice – he didn't. Ronon was almost disappointed that John was so lost as to not see that his words disturbed his fellow teammate so much.

"We need to see Beckett, remember?" Ronon told him soothingly, lying through his teeth. John hadn't needed to go anywhere near the med bay for at least another week, but Ronon thought that if John was as lost as he seemed, he wouldn't remember that.

 ** _Queen…no Queen…we need a Queen_** …The sinister voice that was not-his-own whispered to John, basking in power, John stirred from it – his body freezing, staring into space, a frown shoving away the bliss that had nearly consumed him. John's mouth opened and closed like a gasping fish, searching for words – trying to warn anyone near him.

" ** _Need…Queen_** …Teyla…!"

Ronon had paused mid step upon hearing the almost sinister and Wraith-like change in his friend's voice, but, turning toward him, and hearing the plea for Elizabeth, he held hope that perhaps John was not as lost to them as he had thought.

"What did you _say_?" He asked of John, confused, and hoping for John to show some sign of normalcy – but John's face remained blank- as if he hadn't said anything strange, showing no signs of the internal struggle beneath the surface of his mind.

"We need to go… ** _Queen_** … ** _to Teyla_** …" John's said in duel voices of human and Wraith, frowning ever so slightly; his eyes suddenly turned to stare into Ronon's own, inadvertently giving Ronon flashbacks, memories of other Wraith, ones he had fought, and ran from in the past.

Ronon slowly nodded, all the while thinking of a reply.

"She's… waiting for us in the med bay." Ronon again lied, he hated it, yet he felt he _had_ to get John to the med bay- and if lying was a way to do it, then Ronon would lie. Yet…He had a feeling that Teyla would be visiting John there soon enough.

John's Wraith black eyes narrowed, and Ronon _knew_ –suddenly, that like the Wraith, John now had something like their minds – and their physic abilities. He _knew_ Ronon was lying, he probably _felt_ Ronon's fear for him - and John knew, suddenly, where _everyone_ on Atlantis was.

"Will _She_ come to the med bay?" John asked, confused to why suddenly he _felt_ Elizabeth elsewhere, knew _where_ the med bay was, and yet Ronon told him she was there. Ronon struggled to keep the appearance of calm. John had likely 'picked up' those thoughts from Ronon's mind, and he struggled to keep John from looking again, distracting him.

"Yes, She will, but you _have_ to come with me, to the med bay, okay John?" Ronon insisted to a frowning John, who suddenly stopped frowning, his shoulders and tense frame that had been present since 'John', as Ronon knew him, had resurfaced from whatever he was going through. Ronon bit back a frustrated noise, what hadn't John given him more of a clue to what was wrong?

Ronon put his hand on John's shoulder, guiding him by touch to the med bay.

John was looking strait ahead, his abyss black eyes in full view of anyone who might catch sight, so it was no wonder that John's soldiers, who guarded the med bay caught sight of his eyes- who _wouldn't_?

 ** _Threats…?_** The voice of John's own personal 'demon' whispered to him, seeing the uniformed men.

: _No, no, no…Ours…_ : John assured it, stilling his mind so not to pick up pieces of theirs as they passed them, but the 'demon' had taken his word for truth – he could only hope it continued to do so in the future.

He hated the turmoil he was putting Ronon through, but there was nothing he could do for it – the Wraith-like thing inside him had taken root, and ignored his attempts to lure it back into hibernation. Especially now, when the Runner, _Ronon's_ scent filling John's mind, and the longing to see a Queen – _Teyla_ …

Ronon held his breath as they passed the guards, but neither John nor the guards acted out, even if the military men's eyes _had_ followed John carefully.

Ronon had to give them credit for being well trained, for, despite John's appearance, they let them pass when Ronon made a motion for safe passage. Being on the same team as their leading military officer had its perks, but he hoped they knew to keep their thoughts _quiet_.

 _Or_ … that John's thought-sensing ability was limited to a distance of a few inches.

 _Yeah right Dex, keep dreaming_. Ronon thought, as he glanced at John's black face out of the corner of his eye. John did nothing though, no reactions – and no familiarity to anything. As if he was seeing it anew for the first time.

 _Finally_ , after what seemed like ages, they made it to where Dr. Beckett worked- busy with his paperwork, he nonetheless heard them approach and looked up…right into John's eyes, and Ronon had no way to warn him to keep calm – he cursed himself for stupidity, and preyed John didn't react.

 ** _Threat...?_** The Wraith-like part of John hissed at him, and John begged it silently not to hurt a member of his 'Hive' – or family, and the Wraith silenced itself …watching.

"My _god_ … right- um… _John_? Why don't you sit yourself down over there, alright?" Beckett asked of John, after tearing his eyes away from the Wraith black eyes. John, still steadfastly lost within his own mind nodded absently, sitting on the bed Beckett had gestured to.

" ** _Where is_** **_Queen_** …Teyla?" John asked in dual voices, tilting his head at Ronon - who avoided his eyes.

"She's coming." Ronon answered shortly, John nodded abruptly, and went back to staring blankly ahead of himself.

"John, we'll be right back, alright mate? Don't go _anywhere_." Beckett instructed, although John didn't seem to hear him, but Ronon didn't think either way that John would be moving anytime soon.

"What _happened_?" Beckett demanded in a harsh whisper, when Beckett had brought them far enough away that they _hoped_ John wouldn't overhear.

"I don't _know._ He came to get me in the training room - then his eyes changed, and he started acting – well, like he _is_. Like he's not all _there_ \- all that seems to matter to him is getting to "Queen" – or Teyla." Ronon added in afterthought, Beckett swallowed, seeing how much this looking like a Wraith rather then John's actions, and yet, even with this new information he merely nodded.

"Call Elizabeth, get her to have Teyla come down here, we want to keep him happy for now." Beckett instructed, Ronon only nodded, glad that someone else had taken charge of this child-like and yet deadly version of John. He watched as Beckett went back to John, and asked calmingly, to see where Ellia had bitten him.

Taking out a radio, Ronon put it to Elizabeth's frequency and spoke.

"Dr. Elizabeth Weir, this is Ronon. John has … _changed_ ; we need Teyla in the med bay."


	3. Locked Away

**-With Weir-**

" _Dr. Elizabeth Weir, this is Ronon. John has …_ changed _; we need Teyla in the med bay_." Elizabeth nearly jumped when her radio went off unexpectedly, with the eyes of Teyla, Rodney, and Caldwell on her, she hid it, and reached to flick her radio to Ronon's frequency.

"What do you mean by changed, Ronon?" Elizabeth inquired, even though she didn't like the tone of Ronon's voice- he sounded almost frightened, she brushed it away, listening for Ronon's answer. She swallowed nervously as she waited – the air growing tense with anticipation.

 _"The only physical sign is that his eyes are like the Wraiths."_ Ronon finally admitted, despite his clear reluctance to go into detail, the others all of who had heard Ronon's message were staring at the radio with nervous and knowing expressions on their faces.

" _Come to med bay_." Ronon's voice demanded, and then she heard his radio click off, so, Elizabeth _knew_ she wouldn't get anymore answers from him - he didn't trust the radios, and probably never would.

When they reached the med bay, they found that Ronon stood by John – who sat on the metal bed, looked dazedly foreword, his eyes as black as night staring into nothingness. Beckett greeted them, and admitted that Ronon had kept him from working on John. It was just as well Beckett hadn't – John didn't respond to their entrance; drugs or stimulates might have made the situation – already dire, worse.

"John, John? – can he hear us?" Elizabeth asked – Beckett looked to Ronon who shrugged, frowning slightly at the unresponsive man, gently he laid his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder and nodded to where Caldwell stood – obviously inviting a meeting away from john – Elizabeth glanced once more at John, and followed Beckett.

Rodney, though, came closer to John, his scientific mind racing through the probabilities and chances of John's condition and recovery. Rodney waved a red pen in front of John's eyes – there was still no response - as he sat himself beside John's bed. It was the first time Teyla had seen him look so lost.

"It will be alright, Rodney." Teyla told him, her hand resting on his shoulder, Rodney shook his head – angry that he had suggested John might be a danger to them – only to find him in such a condition.

 ** _Queen…Queen is near_** ….The voice in his mind purred darkly, at Teyla's voice, John wanted to yell – to tell them that there was something _else_ within him – watching them. Studying them – learning.

" _Sure_ it will," Rodney he heard mutter sarcastically, Rodney's tone of sarcasm lessening as he continued "first Ford - now John, what if he runs, Teyla?" Rodney asked of her, the arch between his nose and brow. Worriedly wondering for the first time if he really could 'fix' whatever was wrong with his friend.

"Then we will go after him." Teyla answered bluntly and meaning every word as her eyes rested on John, when Rodney snorted, she turned to him raising her eyebrow. Rodney, somewhat ashamed of his behavior, but still seeking to make his point continued.

" _Right_ , that didn't help Ford any, if you recall." Rodney spat out, remembering the time he had been hung from his hazard suit by the other man. Their attention shifted suddenly to Ronon, realizing they did not know his opinion, and he could be a threat to John. For he had not spoken since they had arrived, merely watching them – taking in their reactions, studying the others with a detail and fierceness that had gone unnoticed until now.

"I wonder …what _they_ are talking about." Ronon spoke aloud, his eyes on the three gathered away from them, Rodney shrugged his shoulders – leaning forward to study the bite mark on John's arm, uncaring to what the others planned; he was sure in the end this could be mended, until then…Rodney ran a hand through his hair helplessly.

"How did he act with you, Ronon?" Teyla asked suddenly, bringing Ronon's attention away from Elizabeth and the others. Ronon found him self staring into the distance, searching for a way to say what he wanted to, without sounding crazy – or as if there was no hope. Realizing there was no way he sighed, and shook his head.

"At first he was distracted, then he spoke like the Wraith, and now – nothing, as if there is too much happening for him to handle." Ronon admitted to them, as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. He hadn't wanted to tell John – because those sparring sessions were the only time they had one-on-one, but getting so little rest was taking its toll.

"What does that matter? If the Iratus bugs didn't help, then there is a possibility nothing that we try will." Rodney grumbled lowly, frustrated that although the bite seemed healed – John was acting more Wraith then man.

"But… there is _hope_ , perhaps, he is learning –slowly, to control the Wraith urges." Teyla said speaking softly, Rodney looked to be thinking on that – perhaps nothing needed to be _fixed_ – maybe John could control it; but, then, what of Ford's reaction?

"We don't know that for sure." Ronon spoke again, his eyes on John's motionless form. Rodney looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, and Teyla frowned at him. They did not say anything though – for Elizabeth and the other two approached them.

"I've decided to put him in isolation, with guard." Elizabeth told them softly, almost reluctantly. Teyla looked about to protest this, but Ronon shook his head slightly – a firm gesture for her to stay out of it. When they were out of sight and mind, they would decide what to do.

Rodney either didn't notice that silent bit of body language – or didn't care.

"Now, _that_ is _idiotic_ ," Rodney told them, waving a hand toward John, "I'm all for trying to get him better – whatever it takes, but if Teyla is going to be right about you lot – that your locking him up, _when he hasn't done anything_ ; to just to keep him out of sight, or for your peace of mind, _no_." Rodney spat out, his eyes narrowed on Elizabeth.

Behind his back - Ronon and Teyla glanced at each other, both had had bad experiences with Wraith – and John's eyes were a blatant reminder of that, but even _they_ knew the truth in Rodney's words. Elizabeth sighed, and waved a hand to silence Caldwell, who had looked about to say something – and she knew it would be something that would goad Rodney further.

"I _know_ that Rodney - it's just a precaution." Elizabeth tried to explain, Beckett looked suddenly uneasy – his eyes on the flinching John, who found him self being called back to the present, no longer lost within himself and the seductive voice of the Wraith.

" _Precaution_ , he hasn't _done_ anything!" Rodney argued back, Beckett swallowed, and decided to interrupt – before John came to himself to find his team fighting with Elizabeth, and in this state, the doctor had no guess how he would react – yet, he didn't think it would be positive.

"As _productive_ as this argument is - he seems to be coming back to us." Beckett announced abruptly, _before_ someone could retort. Slowly, Elizabeth turned her head to look at John – she had avoided looking him in the eyes, for the proof of his Wraith-nature was staring her right in the face.

"John?" Elizabeth's voice quivered, fearing for how her friends mind had suffered under the strain of the Wraith-nature emerging. John frowned slightly, his brows drawing together in confusion – still lost, but hearing them.

"John, can you hear me?" Teyla spoke hopefully – at the sound of the ' Queens' voice reaching John, the Wraith-nature seemed to have fled.

"Of _course_ I can," John assured her, blinking at them and seeing their relief – and distress, "What's wrong? Why is everyone staring at me? How did I get here?" For the first time that Ronon had sparred with him that night, John now appeared to be back in control of him self, but his voice wavered at the looks he was getting. John was scared for the first time in a long time, because, he couldn't remember going to the med bay.

"Your eyes…" Teyla's voice, already at a near whisper, faltered, John – remembering his dreams - had a sudden sinking feeling in his gut. Beckett handed John a mirror, with one last look to those gathered around him, he chanced a look in the mirror.

"My _god_ …" John choked out horrified; his fingers touching the cool glass, and then his cheek to make sure both images were real.

"It… isn't that _bad_ John…" Rodney reassured him trying only half-heartedly, it was clear John had made up his mind about his eyes - and nothing anyone else had to say about it would change his mind. This was especially true when they were still looking at him with pity - and no small amount of fear - in their own, _human_ , eyes.

" _Isn't so bad_? Rodney, _isn't so bad,_ is for a broken arm, or sprained wrist. _'Isn't so bad'_ doesn't _begin_ to cover getting your self a pair of _alien_ eyes, _worse_ , when they belong to your _enemies_!" John yelled, his voice having gotten gradually louder throughout the speech – his lips having drawn back into snarl; Rodney flinched back, and John quickly looked apologetic – having realized that Rodney had only been trying to help, he bowed his head, muttering a soft ' _sorry'_.

"It's alright, John." Rodney said softly, patting his friend's shoulder, John shrugged him off shaking his head, not wanting Rodney's pity.

"It'll never be, ' _alright'_ , again, Rodney. I don't think… I can be trusted…I don't remember even coming here. How did I get here anyway?" John asked, looking up at them with his eerie black eyes.

"You came to the training room to tell me we had a mission. Your eyes changed there, and I took you here, and then contacted Dr. Weir." Ronon offered as an explanation – it was as good as any and John found himself nodding, he swallowed, looking between Beckett and Elizabeth.

"What is it you plan to do?" John asked them warily, Caldwell cleared his throat, deciding to deliver the 'bad' news.

"We've decided that your condition is unstable, and to hold you under guard, until your condition improves." Caldwell announced, not daring to look John Sheppard in the eyes as four of his Daedalus crew-men came to stand near John. Rodney glared at the seven of them - snorting in disgust as he turned away; Teyla, and Ronon, looked similarly angry.

"I see…" John whispered softly, clenching his fists to reign in his anger, even as he stood, and went along with the four other men. All the while the _thing_ inside him whispered of revenge - of escape, but John shoved it back, unwilling to hurt anyone of his fellow military – or the people on Atlantis he protected. Although, he knew they might leave him no choice _but_ to escape, if only to prove that he was still loyal to them - by getting rid of the Wraith-nature on his own.

"Are you sure there is nothing you can do, Beckett?" Elizabeth asked softly, even as John was led away, surrounded by four soldiers, Beckett only shook his head sadly.

"I can work on something to keep him subdued, but the Iratus bugs had been our best bet in getting rid of the Wraith DNA. As it doesn't appear to have worked, there really is nothing we can do for now." Beckett answered her somberly, Elizabeth nodded understanding the doctor's _want_ to help John, but unable to do anything.

"We should have given him a chance." Rodney interrupted, staring at the two, Elizabeth frowned at him while Caldwell snorted – jerking his head back in the direction John had been taken in.

"He is _uncontrollable_ , if he decided to go on a rampage; _there is no way to control him_. We don't even _know_ if the abilities he gained from the Wraith DNA are strong- or if he's still normal. His _condition_ is too _unstable_." Caldwell abruptly answered Rodney, Rodney, in turn, snorted at Caldwell's weak excuses.

"He hasn't _done anything against us_ , as I have said. Teyla is part-Wraith, but I don't see you trying to put her in a cell, and justify it by saying she is uncontrollable." Rodney argued back, making Elizabeth sigh, rubbing her brow feeling an oncoming headache approaching. Caldwell glanced at Teyla, who looked uneasy at being included in the conversation – and having her own part-Wraith nature brought so bluntly to Caldwell's attention.

"This is _different,_ Rodney. Teyla is _naturally_ part Wraith – it's something she'd dealt with all her life. John has a _chance of becoming a Wraith_ \- not unlike Ford." Elizabeth explained, but Rodney only raised an eyebrow, shaking his head.

"Ford's case is _nothing_ like John's. Ford's life-force was _drained_ by a Wraith – John was bitten by a young queen- Ellia, and _who knows_ what happened in the Iratus bug cave." Teyla argued for John's side, Ronon gave her a look, and Rodney was nodding in agreement.

Elizabeth only shook her head, while Caldwell smirked triumphantly at them over her and Beckett's shoulder. Ronon snarled, and stormed out of the room, glaring daggers at Caldwell; Teyla, with a sigh, followed him out - Rodney shook his head at Ronon's temper and followed both of his teammates out.

Ronon stalked to where they were keeping John – for he knew it for it was were they kept all captives – however temporary; but, before he could enter, two guards stopped him from going in. Teyla, approaching quickly - least Ronon do something drastic - noticed that they wore uniforms from the Daedalus - and would be therefore under Caldwell's command, and wouldn't listen to Ronon.

"Why can't I go in?" Ronon demanded, as Teyla now stood behind him - she glanced up, and nodded to Rodney when he joined them.

"Only Dr. Weir, Dr. Beckett, and Col. Caldwell can go in, under Col. Caldwell's orders." One guard replied firmly, his hand going to his weapon at being confronted – not wanting to deal with a guard with a twitchy trigger finger, Ronon merely growled under his breath; he had forgotten that with Lt. Col. Sheppard out of commission, Atlantis's military command fell to Caldwell.

Ronon tensed when Teyla's hand fell on his shoulder, he turned to her frowning, and she shook her head. Ronon knew she meant to silently tell him to give up, spinning on his heel and leaving them; they followed him to his room, entered it - Teyla and Rodney following through the doors of his personal rooms.


	4. The Plan and The Voice

_"Only Dr. Weir, Dr. Beckett, and Col. Caldwell can go in, under Col. Caldwell's orders." One guard replied firmly, his hand going to his weapon at being confronted – not wanting to deal with a guard with a twitchy trigger finger, Ronon merely growled under his breath; he had forgotten that with Lt. Col. Sheppard out of commission, Atlantis's military command fell to Caldwell._

_Ronon's body tensed when Teyla's hand fell on his shoulder, he turned to her, frowning, and she merely shook her head. Ronon knew she meant to tell him to give up without words, so spinning on his heel, he left them; silently, they followed him to his rooms, and entered them - Teyla and Rodney following through the doors of his personal rooms._

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

When they stepped through the threshold of the door, Ronon had turned to regard them, waiting for an explanation – or a plan to be voiced.

Gathered, though somewhat uncomfortable with Ronon's eyes so intently on them, Rodney forced himself to raise an inquiring eyebrow. He, at least, knew that Ronon had meant for them to follow.

"We must to get him away from here, or, at the very least, away from Caldwell." Teyla insisted softly, glancing between Ronon and Rodney. Ronon, at least, looked thoughtful – though Rodney's expression was doubtful.

"Where would we go? Even if I overrode the codes to get through the 'Gate, there are few places in the Pegasus galaxy we can hide safely at." Rodney asked of her somewhat sarcastically. Teyla chuckled very softly, though Rodney could not see the humor of the situation.

"Rodney, I was a _Runner_ , I know of plenty of deserted worlds we could hide away on." Ronon assured somewhat cockily, Rodney though, did not look as if he liked that option, so Ronon turned to Teyla. "Then take Teyla's word for it. You're from a trade planet; surely we have not gone to all of the planets with people you once traded with?" Teyla did not look to see Rodney's expression as she nodded, very carefully remaining neutral.

"Then surely, together, we know the Pegasus Galaxy better then any other team on Atlantis, at least for now. We can – if pressed, find safe places to hide him at." Ronon persuaded, and finally Rodney and Teyla shared a glance, slowly, Rodney nodded his acceptance of these facts.

"If you somehow manage to plan and do this… I don't think I should come with you," Rodney admitted, remembering the planet they had found Ronon on, "I'd only slow you down." Rodney added upon seeing Teyla's expression, Ronon grunted softly - he knew it was true, but he knew they needed Rodney - so it was up to Teyla to convince him to come.

"This is true, but, when we returned, how would we contact Atlantis without your knowledge of your – and the Ancients, technology?" Teyla asked softly of him, Rodney, seeing her point, and not liking where it was leading sighed even as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Alright, I'll go… but if we go to a planet like the one we found Ronon at, I'm complaining – _loudly_ \- and for _hours_. Understood?" Rodney told them in a tone that left no room for an argument. Teyla, smiled slightly, then nodded – after all there were plenty of other, less hazardous planets in the Pegasus Galaxy.

"That is fine, Rodney." Teyla agreed with his demand, Ronon merely nodded – he was not fool enough to promise something so early in a escape, yet Rodney, even knowing this, had to grin.

"Alright, I've got a plan…."

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

**-With John Sheppard-**

John hadn't put up much of a fuss when the soldiers had put him in a cage – the same, he remembered, they had put the captured Wraith in. He hadn't even protested when they'd placed the shield around it – even knowing that with the Ancient genes he could deactivate it within a blink of his eye.

The _thing_ inside him, however, wanted to scream at the unfairness of it. It saw itself as greater then _them_ – men, John reminded himself, who had respected and trusted in him. The seductive whisper wanted to prove itself to John; told him convincingly that he could be greater then any of his 'parts'.

John refused to give _it_ any say on what his body would do, or become; it could whisper in the back of his mind all it wanted - but he was the one in control, and he would stay that way for as long as he could.

John let himself sink to his knees in the corner of the cage; even now, kept hidden away from the others - he could hear the faint whispers of their human thoughts.

Even if he tried to ignore it, he would hear within his mind the echoes of the Wraith. _Feel_ their surprise at suddenly meeting a thing more dangerous then them. For they knew _it_ could crush their minds - or bring them under its – no it was – in a way, John, so it willed to bring them under 'John's control

 _ **As it should be** …_ The darkness hissed to him. John cradled his head in his hands

\- it ached with the force of the things going on inside him – even now, the Ancient genes, which had always been 'close' to the human ones were protecting them; while the Wraith DNA tried to bridge the gaps and mingle – it was like oil in water mixing in his mind. He had, when he'd awoken, hoped that the dream was just that - a _dream_ , but now everyone in Atlantis knew otherwise.

John found he didn't blame Caldwell or Elizabeth for placing him in here. What he had found within himself made him doubt his control around people, not even his own team – especially not the _Runner_ –: _No, Ronon, his name is Ronon.._ : could be trusted to react appropriately if John did something… _strange_ , or if hetried to _feed_ as a Wraith did. Which was _another_ reason he had gone willingly with the soldiers- what if _it_ needed to feed on humans? That thought sickened him more then anything.

 _ **'We' will not be reliant on that, you feed as humans feed still; how the Wraith feed would be a weakness**_ …The voice now sounded like his fifth grade teacher - patronizing and smug in its knowledge. John breathed out slowly; he _hated_ when _it_ seemed to respond to his thoughts – as if it wasn't apart of him.

Though he knew, rationally, that it didn't 'speak' to him – it was a part of him, the mixed parts – the part that was wrong – that was mixed oil and water. Even so, that wrongness had knowledge he didn't – as if all the ancestry of Ancients, Wraiths, and humans, amounted to what was in his head.

 _ **That is correct**_ … _It_ sounded far too narcissistic to be him, even if he had to admit the 'voice' _did_ sound like him. John found himself wondering if it responded just to his passing thoughts, or if he could, in actuality 'speak' with it.

: _Worth a shot. How can, this – you, us, be?_ : John thought 'at' _it_ in a shout, in hopes it could 'hear' – he felt it flinch inside him.

 _ **Not so loud, 'we' are not 'you' – yet; 'you' are right 'we' are the joined – the mix of oil and water – 'you' are not. 'We' are a mixing of Wraith, Ancient, and Iratus…and human**_ …John felt bail rise in his throat, wasn't _that_ a splendid thought - he carried four, not three mixtures of a ' _creature'_ inside his very mind, he didn't even know if he was still John. What would he call himself if the 'mix' was finished?

 _ **As, in time, 'we' will become 'you' there is no need for a name**_ …Another lovely thought, and John was against it the moment the _thing_ told him so. He did not want to become _it_.

: _No way in hell._ : John hissed his defiance at the thing; he felt it wither in pain; he realized then that he had hurt it with his rejection of it.

John's black eyes snapped open - he hadn't realized they had been closed. He could hurt _it_ , therefore he could control _it_ , and maybe, just maybe- he could get rid of _it_.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

**\- With Rodney-**

"Ronon, you'll be the one to get him out," Rodney told the other man, and solemnly Ronon nodded, fingering his favorite knife, "try not to kill anyone…" Rodney warned, his eyes on the knife, Ronon's lips twitched in amusement.

"I give you my word I will get him out – no more then that." Ronon spoke, and while Rodney looked uncomfortable with the thought of a dead man attached with his plan, he continued.

"Meanwhile, Teyla and I will go to get a Puddle Jumper; from there I'll open the doors and distract the guards." Rodney explained; Teyla, seeing why she might be needed with Rodney- for the scientist was no fighter, nodded at her part knowing she could do it, but Ronon frowned.

"How do you plan to distract the guards?" Ronon asked of the scientist, his tone full of doubt, Rodney only sighed and shook his head, a small smirk on his lips as he turned to Ronon.

"Ronon, Ronon, Ronon," Rodney murmured playfully, much to the other man's amusement, "the one thing Atlantis- or any sea _or_ space vessel fears most – is fire. I'll just activate a fire alarm not far from where their keeping Sheppard- _everyone_ has to respond to a fire threat." Rodney assured them, and they nodded in agreement – having seen first hand how quickly Atlantis responded to threats from the elements.

"When they're gone, I'll open the doors for you, and the locks, and then you run for it, alright?" Teyla and Ronon nodded their agreement of Rodney's plan – they only hoped it would go as smoothly as Rodney had planned it.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

 **\- With Teyla and** **Rodney. -**

Their part of the plan was both the easiest, and the most challenging. As members of John's team, they were known with Atlantis military – and had long ago earned their trust, luckily, Caldwell hadn't yet had the time to mix his people in.

Still, as they approached the Puddle Jumpers, Teyla knew they would not get through them without questions.

"Teyla – Dr. McKay, we were just discussing the latest bit of gossip – Henderson here," the young man nodded to the older looking guard who rolled his eyes at the antics of his partner, "is sure they aren't, but I'm not so sure – knowing the scrapes Sheppard's gotten himself into." He – his nametag reading 'Smithson' looked back to Teyla and Rodney, clearly expecting the two to comment on John's condition.

"Frankly – I don't think it's any of your concern –" Rodney began; Teyla interrupted him before he could cast much of a doubt.

"What, exactly, are these rumors?" Teyla asked, giving Rodney a hard look – she did not want to harm these men – it would be better, if, upon their return – they were still trusted by _some_ of the military.

"Well, that Sheppard's eyes have turned Wraith-black, and that Ronon had to force him to the med bay." Smithson commented, allowing himself to smile sympathetically at Teyla for having to 'deal with' Rodney.

"The first part, I'm afraid, is true – as a side-effect his eyes have turned black. But I assure you, he went willingly with Ronon, and – in fact, Elizabeth has agreed to let him continue with a mission they had planned this morning." Teyla assured them; the two military men looked between each other unsurely. Rodney snorted softly, and the two looked quickly at him.

"Do you _really_ want to bother Elizabeth with something she's already Okayed? It's not like we are going to go and smuggle John out." Rodney stated – lying through his teeth and even so, the two began to look somewhat embarrassed.

"Rodney is here to clear the Puddle Jumper that had that glitch last time." Teyla continued, Smithson shrugged, and as the two were in the clear – and some of the most trusted people on Atlantis, they allowed them to pass.

John was well liked among Atlantis's military personal, he was a good leader - and despite his carefree disposition, he put his people first. That had earned him more respect then he knew

Rodney went into the Puddle Jumper, Teyla following him in – leaning against the edge of the entrance, waiting – and hoping she wouldn't have to use the weapon available to her.

Just as Smithson and Henderson were getting nervous about the 'repair' taking so long – the distinct high-pitched drone of the fire warning went off – Rodney obviously having succeeded in convincing Atlantis that there was a fire within the city.

Now, Teyla and Rodney had only to wait until Ronon showed up with John.


	5. By The Fire Side

Ronon stopped just before he reached the junction to the hall where he knew they were holding John; he leaned easily against the hallway – out of sight, out of mind – as the sang went. He would have to wait for the fire alarm to go off before he moved in to 'kidnap' John.

John Sheppard was one of the most honorable men Ronon had ever met. As such, Ronon knew that if this was a normal situation Ronon wouldn't exactly approve of his teams plan.

Then again – if this was a normal situation, John wouldn't be held captive. Ronon knew he would have time to think about what he was doing – he was throwing his second chance into Elizabeth's face.

But, John had been the one who had believed in him, who'd kept his word to Ronon – to get a doctor – even when he had had no reason to believe in him or that things would turn out 'all right' other then his gut instincts.

John did not deserve to be locked up, simply because his eyes had changed.

This was something Ronon fully believed that John could control – given enough time to learn to, but his comrades were not willing to give John that chance.

No – not his comrades – it was his men who were hoping for a miracle, but it was Caldwell who wasn't willing to take a chance on John.

Caldwell, who Ronon didn't like at all – who seemed to think he held a certain amount of power over both John and Elizabeth. For whatever reason, he has manipulating Elizabeth and the rest into thinking John would be a danger to the people on Atlantis.

Or perhaps, it had more to do with what people on Earth will think of Elizabeth if she doesn't act according to how Caldwell sees fit.

It matters little to Ronon what the people of Earth, who were no where near the Pegasus Galaxy – think of them. They would never understand what John and Elizabeth had gone through since coming to the Pegasus, meeting Teyla and then, later after loosing Ford – him.

When he'd gotten up the nerve to ask, Teyla had told him that she had met John on his first trip, then - he had been second-in-command, only becoming first when he had watched helplessly as his commander had died before John's very eyes.

She had told him of Ford – and of what had happened before they met Ronon.

Some days Ronon found it easy to believe all of it – though there were times when Ronon had watched John interact with others from afar, and then thinks that it's all impossible.

How could any one man – especially one who was so young, do things people three times his age had attempted and failed at repeatedly. For Ronon knows what John and his people are up against, fighting the Wraith.

Then, at times – Ronon can not help but think of the way he would look to one of his team - or Elizabeth, and know with a certainty that superimposes all his doubts that its all true - and John would do – is doing - the impossible again.

Ronon frowns for a moment, looking at the material he still leans against.

He suspects that Atlantis, the very Pegasus Galaxy, the adventures and challenges it represents play a key part in what John does – but mostly Ronon knows it is for the lives John had taken it upon himself to protect; for Ronon sees and knows John's pain – echoed within Ronon himself - when they did not get there before a Wraith harvest – or his enthusiasm and contentment when they do manage to somehow get on the world before the Wraith come.

For all of that – for the very core of the person Ronon knows is still within John, he does not hesitate when the fire alarm signals – when he hears the telltale running of the echoing footsteps of the soldiers as they run from their posts – fleeing toward the fire.

Rodney's prediction that Caldwell would not have had time to change the security codes came true as Ronon entered them, and sealed doors sprang open, as if glad to have John freed.

Ronon finds himself unwillingly pausing at the entrance of the cell – in the corner of it is the huddled form of John – his head bowed between his bent knees. He is crouched there, the very picture of a defeated man – so unlike the usual John that for a moment Ronon does not know what to do.

With a firm head shake in hopes of ridding himself of unwanted emotions and thoughts, Ronon walked through, hesitating as he reaches for John's shoulder, and then gently setting his hand heavily upon it.

It seems to John as if all the weight in the world – all expectations and fears and hopes – comes with that weight.

He looks up – and Ronon does not cringe when his eyes meets the Wraith black – something passes in the gaze of the alien eyes, something alike hope. Then it is gone – blankly, the eyes look at Ronon, then to the cage door – then back to Ronon's growingly frustrated features.

"What are you doing Ronon?" John's voice is soft – _but it is John_ \- relieved that it is him, and not the blank creature, Ronon tightens his grip on John's shoulder and arm – tugging insistently until John stands.

"Getting you out, come on - we've got to get to the hanger. Teyla and Rodney are there with a Puddle Jumper waiting – but you've got to pilot it." Ronon explains, guiding John out of the prison, which John looks back at – seemingly reluctant in leaving Atlantis behind.

Ronon does not allow John to slow to a stop or admire last minute scenery – gripping John's wrist in a vase-like hold, they make their way to the hanger at a trot – Atlantis aiding by letting them pass through the supposed-to-be-sealed doors.

For it all, John is lagging – trying to fight through the Wraith's presence in his mind, past the confusion.

To understand what is happening to him – even as his body is in motion. Ronon wishes he had time to better explain – to let John work out what's happened, but they can't afford the delay.

Once they reach the hanger though – John seems to snap out of the daze Ronon's words had put him in – by then, Ronon no longer needs to keep a grip on John because he is running along beside him – nonetheless, even having realized that – Ronon does not let go. Up ahead they see Rodney waving them into the chosen Puddle Jumper.

"Hurry up John - you've got seven more minutes till they can stop us." Rodney explains in a rush as he half guides John to the controls. Only then – with John in the pilot's seat, does the crafts entrance close, it hovers over the trap-floor which opens up into the 'Gate room.

Then does the virus Rodney planted take its sweet time to take command over the controls, activates – opening the 'Gate room entrance – among the panic and chaos its appearance causes, Rodney dials in the 'Gate address Teyla had suggested, the 'Gate erupts with white and blue light.

Only then, despite Rodney's mantra of ' _go, go, go'_ (which could be directed at John or the 'Gate) does John guild them to go through – escaping into the Pegasus Galaxy.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

**-Back in Atlantis-**

"What could have possessed them to do something so foolhardy?" Carson Beckett demanded of his superiors - as the doctor rant, Elizabeth and Caldwell exchange looks. Finally, when Carson runs out of steam – Caldwell speaks –his eyes fixed on the 'Gate that just moments before they had watched John and his team escape through.

"Sheppard must have somehow controlled them." Caldwell stated smugly, his tone left a sickly feeling in everyone's stomach. Despite the wild accusation, Elizabeth does not quickly leap to defend John – stunned by her blunt show of betrayal; Beckett speaks up before either of them can jump to further conclusions.

"Don't be absurd - if John Sheppard _could_ control people, why just his team? No, I'm afraid this was a choice of their own free will – you yourselves saw how upset they were that John was confined." Beckett insisted, his eyes on Elizabeth for all that he saw Caldwell scowled in his direction – slowly, Elizabeth nodded seeing for herself that his words were true.

"Regardless, I will send a team after them." Elizabeth stated determinedly, her eyes pleading with Beckett to understand – they could not afford for John to come back to them rogue - Caldwell nodded in support of her decision supposedly showing his understanding in her reasoning.

"I'm afraid that won't do any good - you forget that Ronon and Teyla both know the Pegasus Galaxy better then we do." Beckett spoke up, wary as he told them this -Caldwell muttered a soft curse, for he had not realized two of John's team were locals to the Pegasus Galaxy. Carson looked on at his behavior with a raised eyebrow, but Elizabeth seemed to have expected it, and only nodded acknowledging Carson's words as the truth.

"Never the less, we must at least try to find them." Elizabeth spoke softly, hope in her tone – Caldwell merely nodded, commenting that he would send a team out before he left in a huff.

Elizabeth motioned Carson closer to her, leaning towards him.

"I do not think Caldwell is… _himself_ – please _discreetly_ question his crew over his behavior...I want to know if there have been any changes in it in the recent past." Elizabeth whispered in undertone – aware suddenly that someone could be spying on them; Beckett put his childhood acting skills to good use, smiling and nodded, for all that Elizabeth could clearly see his eyes were worried.

"I'll do that." Carson murmured softly before standing, leaving Elizabeth's office – his mind racing to piece together what could have caused her to be wary enough to only hint at a possible problem.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

_**-Camp-** _

Just to make things difficult for whoever was doomed to follow them, they took a maze of 'Gate addresses – after which, even Rodney was confused to where they were.

For one was which he knew Atlantis did not have on its database - he supposed, now – on top of being fugitives, they had actually managed to have properly escaped Atlantis. Despite that, he knew that as their best hope, it rested with him finding a permanent cure for John.

John – who seemed lost to his own mind, would be no help in setting up camp.

Rodney watched, feeling much like an outsider – as Teyla and Ronon prepared a fire and shelter. Without them, he, at least – likely would have crawled back to Atlantis. Even John, for all that he was unresponsive and barely seemed aware, seemed to fit in better with his environment better then Rodney was managing wide awake.

Rodney knew that despite being 'rescued', John – in absolute truth – though it might have meant his death or lead to any number of unpleasant situation – would be sorry he had left them. Atlantis had felt more like home to he and John then most places on Earth – it was the one thing they both managed to agree upon.

"John? Are you alright?" Teyla was suddenly kneeling beside John - settling a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention. John just looked at her for a time, as if he couldn't be bothered to place who she was – then he blinked, and the blank look was gone, awkwardly John nodded. Then the sudden moment of understanding was gone - he looked back to the edge of the clearing - staring at nothing, leaving the uneasily smiling Teyla beside him to her own musings.

"Food's done." Rodney spoke up suddenly – voice loud in the uncomfortable silence that had followed Teyla's question. John took a moment to glance over his shoulder; he had known that Ronon had gone hunting earlier – that much to Ronon's quite reluctance Rodney had insisted on cooking it – but he had not noticed how much time had passed for the food to already be done

If John thought about it longer – he thought he remembered that Teyla had gotten the fire started. He wondered in a flash of panic if he was missing more then a few hours – how long it had been since they had left Atlantis?

Then – with Teyla's hand on his arm, guiding him to the fire – John forget the worry in favor of sitting at the fireside, staring into the flames. It reminded him vaguely of the camping trips he had taken when he had been younger – almost, assuredly, too young to remember.

In the back of his mind he noted in a daze the aftermath of the rush of memories, that unlike when he had been normal - the fire did not warm him. John knew they would worry if he did not eat, no matter that he was truly not hungry - without saying anything, he took the cooked-whatever-it-was Rodney handed them on substitutes for plates and what John assumed were forks.

"What is this?" Teyla asked of Rodney, who frowned – obviously having wondered the same thing.

"I don't really know, it was skinned - had no head, when Ronon gave it to me. It wasn't bloody - that's all I care about." Rodney answered haltingly, puzzled by Teyla's suddenly inquiring look. Teyla then peered at Ronon with a raised eyebrow.

"A bird." Ronon answered vaguely, clearly unconcerned by Teyla's questions.

"Oh, is _that_ all…" Rodney wondered aloud, looking a bit green around the gills. John made an attempt to hide his smile by biting into the cooked meat. Teyla and Ronon merely shared an amused look, it was fun for them to bait Rodney - for the most part he took it all pretty well.

That night, despite a small worry voiced by Rodney that the smoke might be detected - they kept the fire burning. Teyla and Ronon didn't fear discovery, at least not as far as Atlantis finding them on this planet. Out of all the planets in the galaxy, finding them on this particular one would be like finding one black needle among a barrel of many colored ones.


	6. Coming of the Wraith

**-Camp.-**

"John?" Ronon's voice was wary in the question – and John knew he would be the last person to condemn him for it. It was his watch, and sure enough he had found the meat he had eaten to be unsatisfying – to say the least. He had a pretty good idea as to what he wanted, but he knew he had the control to resist its urge, or so he hoped.

Eating, he supposed, had helped after all, he was "himself" again, he only hoped food was enough to come out of such lapses.

"Yeah...?" With such thoughts racing through his mind, it was no wonder John thought his voice sounded far too quiet to hear - he was about to repeat himself when Ronon interrupted.

"What do you think are the chances of Rodney finding a cure?" John looked up then – he would have called himself ten kinds of fool, for the simple fact that he was the leader, however reluctantly – however much others on Earth thought he was unsuited to the task, it was his role on the team.

Facing a situation of life and death, it was John they turned to when things turned sour – the fact he wasn't along in his own mind anymore did little to rationalize the need to keep him in a leadership role to the others. Patting the ground beside him, he motioned for Ronon to join him.

"If you want my estimation, I say it's about a half-and-half chance…but, this is, after all Rodney we're talking about here. He's done the impossible before. I don't think this will be any different in the end." He said as convincingly as he could, hoping to somehow persuade himself to believe his own words. It wasn't that he didn't think it possible to change what he was turning into – that wasn't it at all; it was just, beneath the whole there was a lingering doubt that even a genius could fix this.

"What do you want us to do if you…" Ronon began to ask, but couldn't finish, hesitating in his pause, unable to meet John's gaze. He didn't see the black eyes become somewhat amused, didn't see the grim twitch of lips.

"Get worse?" John finished for him, he saw Ronon nod, still not exactly looking at him if it could be avoided. John swallowed to calm his nerves, gazing down at his clasped hands. It was hard to remain passive while staring something so incredibly terrifying in the face - or soul as it may be, it was inside him after all.

"If I try to feed off any of you… I'm too gone to help. You know what to do then." John spoke in a sigh, he knew he could trust Ronon to kill him …if he turned on them, his team, his friends – it was unforgiveable to his morals, he wouldn't want to survive knowing he had done them harm.

He had not been able to leave a friend behind, even though his superiors had ordered him to do so. He did not want to die, but he didn't want to live on if he had done the unforgiveable and killed his own comrades in a fit of "hunger".

"I don't think you would, even if it took control." Ronon stated, having grown uncomfortable in the accusing silence. It was if he spoke with knowledge, as it was - he was the one who had guided John to the med-bay when John had been overwhelmed by his newfound Wraith senses.

"Regardless, if Rodney can't find something that will help, I don't want to be one of them." John hissed the loathing he felt for the creatures who had slaughtered so many so coldly thick in his tone, Ronon looked him in the face – boldly meeting dark human eyes with John's alien ones and nodded only once. A silent promise to do what John asked if it became necessary beyond all help.

Ronon, of all his team, understood what it was like to be hunted by the Wraith, even if it wasn't quite like Sheppard's situation.

"I'll take over the watch." Ronon stated, and John only stood, walking past where Rodney and Teyla slept. As his shadow passed, Rodney's eyes opened. Unknown to either of them, Rodney had heard their hushed conversation and became more determined then ever to find a way to help John Sheppard - even if it cost Rodney his life.

Rodney swallowed at that thought, remembering that John was turning Wraith and it very well might cost his life to help. Or years off of it.

Either way, he knew helping John was worth it; because if Atlantis would accept anyone back - it would be John, and if anyone could figure out a way to defeat the Wraith - it would be John. Not to mention their issues with Caldwell and Elizabeth.

John had to be saved, no ifs or maybes about it - and Rodney knew he could do it - he had to, or Ronon might have to kill John. And that, he thought to himself as he closed eyes –determined to get what sleep he could while his promising himself to start to work on his endeavor in morning, is not an option.

John listened as Rodney's heartbeat relaxed, falling into a tempo no one could mistake for the stress of being awake and aware. John found he was hesitant to drift off; he did not want his Wraith-half to wrestle control of his body away from him while he was unaware. That Ronon had sworn to protect the others from him was something that eased his tension bit-by-bit.

John later did not remember falling asleep, but knew he must have, for the strange sensations of Wraith-instinct enveloped him...

His skin crawled with it, the need; the fire of hunger for life filled him. They felt it, they knew it, knew his power, knew his control, and they trembled in fear. They knew he wouldn't kill those he cared for, and that those-he-cared-for were the only 'normal' food source available for him.

Those with less power then he also knew he wouldn't hesitate to kill them to quench the fire. Yet he called to them, with shared need for life, a siren song not even those who were used to wielding power over their own kind could deny. He called to them, lured them close, with promises of great feedings, order among the clans, and ruling of more harvested planets.

He was powerful, none among them could deny it, more powerful then any Queen or Worker in centuries; even those with the power to rule the Wraith clans were called by his power. They could no more not answer his calling then not answer the need to feed.

They were coming, coming to him for a answer to sanctuary – despite the promise of the Keeper, it was to him they were flocking to.

John felt a rush of cold, which jerked him soundly from the daze of sleep he had drifted in. John was then aware that he was not, exactly alone in his own mind…

**He awakens…**

**We are here; we have answered your call…**

**We will bring you to us…**

**We welcome you, John – brethren of the Wraith.**

The last was spoken almost sarcastically, though that voice was swiftly silenced. John knew then, it was not just his imagination – it could not be, for though the voices whispered and echoed in his mind, they were different tones, different accents and empathizing what was important to the individual entity they represented.

His mind was a buzz with thoughts that were not his own. Though he heard them, and knew he could answer them if so inclined, he felt oddly disconnected from their mumbles and whispers.

In the end, it was Teyla, who called out in her own sleep – her mind attempting to jerk him way from the others - that pulled him from the oddly comfortable daze. John could have kicked himself then and there, for he had forgotten that she was part Wraith. They felt her just as he did, and she felt them as well.

John shook his head, clearing it of the confusion of being both Wraith and John.

"Wraith are coming!" Teyla called out loud enough for the others to hear, and to act accordingly – for apparently John had been the only one to 'hear' her first warning. For a moment, their eyes met, and something shifted between them. She knew he had spoken with – even called – the Wraith to him. John had a moment to wonder how it was his Wraith instincts had gone from being a loner in Atlantis, to calling out to other Wraith in his sleep – alike a child.

"No," Ronon corrected as a dart made a pass above them, "the Wraith are already here!" As they ran for the Puddle Jumper, only a few strides from the 'Gate, the only thought in John's head was that he had led the Wraith to them, even while he had slept. It was not safe for him to sleep anymore – and he vowed to die before doing it again.

Then the darts took them.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

**-Hive Ship, Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney-**

It was all too predictable – the three found themselves awakening in a Wraith cell, and not at all as alone as Ronon would have liked, for it was guarded by two masked "drones" as Rodney referred to them mentally as. What was worse was that John was no where in sight, and the three immediately begun to worry.

Rodney had started pacing, quick steps to where Teyla and Ronon stood at the back, striding to the "bars", stopping just short of them, and then coming back toward his comrades. Then starting the circuit again, sometimes gnawing on his bottom lip. Both Teyla and Ronon were content to watch the drones as Rodney plotted.

"We shouldn't have taken him out of Atlantis." Rodney announced at his third pass, Teyla only raised an eyebrow at his back, exchanging a glance with Ronon. It was decided without a word that if Rodney became too troublesome they would have to knock him unconscious, and then take him with them when they fled.

"We had no choice. We either saved him, or let him be imprisoned- and he doesn't deserve that." Teyla told him sternly, Rodney only grunted and continued pacing. He had known that – he only didn't like that doing so had led them into the present situation.

"She's right. You know John - he would have tried to escape, and they probably would have out-right killed him. At least if he's with us, we can watch over him." Ronon agreed with her, Rodney turned abruptly mid-way between the 'opening' and where Ronon and Teyla were sitting, pacing in the opposite direction of them to show his displeasure of their joining up against him.

"Has it occurred to either of you that John is missing- and Atlantis can't save us, because they don't know where we are? I don't even know where we are!" Rodney shouted the last part in the drones' direction- one of them growled, and Rodney flinched back finding that despite the disagreement he'd rather take his chances with Teyla and Ronon.

"Rodney, I'm sure we'll get out of this - we always do." Teyla murmured gently, glancing at Ronon, who nodded firmly in agreement.

"Yes, well, that was when John was with us, and we had Atlantis at to go home to!" Rodney grumbled, unable to stand or sit still he began pacing again putting himself out of reach, Teyla wondered if his pacing could –or would – eventually put a groove in the floor. She promptly decided she didn't want to stay around long enough to find out for-sure.

"They don't know we don't." Ronon stated calmly, even if it was meant to be a reassurance Rodney did not take it to be so, turned to Ronon and pointing at the Wraith drones.

"They probably do now!" He exclaimed with fevered and accusing eyes.

"John will get us out." Teyla argued pitching her voice so that Rodney could not ignore what she had to say, Rodney took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Has it occurred to either of you that John isn't here- and that either means he's being held somewhere else- or being drained of his life?" Rodney yelled the last part, waving his hands about.

The drones didn't like Rodney's threatening motions and hissed behind him.

It was sufficient to remind the three, most especially Rodney, that all that stood between the drones and them was a fleshy cage only the Wraith could open. Ronon decided that if either of them started yelling again he was knocking both of them out, even if he ended up being the one dragging their sorry asses out of the obviously hive ship holding pin.


	7. Mali'ja of the Thori'an

"What…is _this_?" The last word lingered long after sound should have faded. Claws tapped delicately along the arm of the chair, it sent chills through those she did not look at – and froze with fear those she did. Amused by this, her lips quirked, seeming to hear the very beat of their hearts in terror of her, the lips lifted to allow the unlucky a glimpse of her fangs.

"Mali'ja…" It was a warning as much as it was pleading in it's tone. Eyes as black as the night her ancestors had hunted within before taking themselves into space observed the young man who had called her name.

While her skin was the lush pale blue of her people, his was dark, naturally so – and upon first setting her sights upon him, he had enthralled her curiosity of his origins. She knew from her connection with his mind that there others like him, but he was first in her sight, and so the one she favored. That favor offered - and demanded - much of him, but for every challenge or question she posed before him, he met it exquisitely.

He was her favored, and so could speak to her as he had, and not fear her rage.

"An explanation, Aiden – or I shall be _most_ displeased." Mali'ja had eyes only for Aiden Ford, she knew him to be of Earth, the lost and likely, last, of the descendents of the Ancients who were their ancestral enemies. Earth …with its bountiful life - untouched by the usual harvests that most humans had grown to anticipate and be wary of, many hungered for such a untouched planet – but Mali'ja had learned from Aiden that the humans of Earth had weapons that any Wraith would be fool to ignore.

Mali'ja saw no reason for her Hive to make the desperate gamble for a distant planet when they had territory and safety here. She was all too proud of the fact that none of _her_ Thori'an was the pasty white of the starved.

"Mali'ja, you remember the presence you felt awakening only nights ago?" Aiden prompted, coming to stand beside where she lounged in a chair that looked impossibly uncomfortable but the Queen of the Thori'an Hive seemed most at home within. Aiden knew the dangers of his actions – Mali'ja would not kill him, but she was not above feeding upon him if the mood took her and she was still very much in the mood of a predator. It would be only instinct.

"Indeed – it was….power." Mali'ja agreed, her talon like nails had ceased their irate tapping upon the chair arm. Instead she held herself with wary care – bidding her time, waiting to hear him out now that he had captured her attention.

"I felt it as well – and I…recognized it as a power from my days…before." Aiden fell silent, and Mali'ja did not know if it was regret or something else that lingered in his dark gaze as she watched him.

"Indeed?" Mali'ja knew then that she could forgive the unpermitted use of her "darts" when the intention had been not to cull but to capture….

"Yes, and I have brought him before you –his companions are being kept elsewhere….his name is John Sheppard." Mali'ja found herself glancing away from Aiden when two of her Thori'an "workers", fine featured with high cheek bones and long silver hair about their shoulders or tied at the back of their skulls - filed into her chamber with a stranger – the stranger she presumed to be John Sheppard.

The one whom her Aiden held in such high regard, such was obvious with his tone and manner toward the other male – it disturbed her to see Aiden, who she regarded as her favored, hovering over the other male as if he was a mate or leader.

John Sheppard's head had remained lowered until he was jerked to a halt before her, then – it rose and the darkest eyes she had ever seen met hers, as equals – for all that it was she who held the illusion of his life and death in her hands. She felt her heart clench, attracted to such power as she was, and could not help herself in being – it was instinctual on her part.

"I, Mali'ja – Queen of the Thori'an Hive, welcome you, brethren of the Wraith – called… John Sheppard." Her smile was not entirely false, though she kept her features from shifting when John glanced to Aiden accusingly. She saw the effort it cost him to turn his attention from Aiden to herself and wondered at the history between them.

"Some greeting, though the welcome could have used some polish." John was either very foolish or very clever – though Mali'ja knew such was his nature and not something she should take personally when Aiden hissed a soft warning breath between his teeth. John did not pay him any attention, and held her gaze – wary and waiting.

"It was not my intention to collect you; such was the doing of my favored." Mali'ja made the effort to inform him of Aiden's high status with her, tilting her head in her favored direction. John carefully did not look to where Aiden stood, his lips twisted with his emotions, and Mali'ja knew from such that he was young for all he was mature in power – he was a child still, newly come into his inheritance.

"I gathered that – still, if it was a mistake – the question of why I remain here lingers with me." John said slowly, trying for polite – it, Mali'ja knew, did not suit him. She smiled, amused as she had not been before Aiden had come into her life. Within her mind she felt John struggle with his reaction and his power, her smile faded. She knew him to be young – a child, but she had not thought him burdened with his newly acquired power until she had felt that struggle.

"You are a danger to yourself and thus – a danger to your friends, as well as myself…it is in my best interest to see you taught control and how to…properly, wield your inherited gifts." Mali'ja finished, and when John's dark eyes narrowed in his suspicion of her, she suppressed the urge to challenge him. He was young – reckless, a mere child. He was no threat and would sooner kill himself then know to use the power he was gifted with. She would aid him and learning about his abilities, for the firmest ties were formed in youth.

"…My friends?" John asked of her, he was – she saw, afraid for them.

"Shall remain here, with you, as long as you please – for now they remain encaged for their own safety. Aiden will lead you to them - from there to your chambers – then, when you are settled, I shall come to you for your first lesson." Mali'ja allowed, knowing that the offer was generous – other Hive's would have merely seen him, and the threat he represented, destroyed sooner then trained.

Mali'ja knew better – he would be worth more to her, and her Hive, alive rather then dead. The fingers of her hand flicked out three times, a sign for dismissal – she watched as Aiden left with John – and tilted her head, amused at the skittish attraction between the two.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"I see the kind of company you keep has changed." John could not help but say as he was led away from… Mali'ja…he had been all too grateful to see Aiden's familiar face, though now that they were away from the eerie Queen, he could not help but question Aiden's motives and sanity.

"She saved me – on accident at first, for she thought she was saving someone else – then she protected me from the rest of them when they wanted to…" Aiden trailed off, distracted by the black eyes of his friend that gazed at him when John looked up. It was disturbing, somewhat of a disappointment – but it was something that Aiden understood having to look into the mirror and see his own eye alike John's – but, at least Aiden had one human eye. John did not.

"Eat you?" John asked, unable to help the slight amusement that lifted his tone. Aiden had to wonder if John had run away from Atlantis like Aiden had – or if Atlantis had chased him off. With his team tagging along with John – Aiden doubted Atlantis had let them go so easily.

"Yeah, something like that." Aiden acknowledged, dark humor humming through him. It felt right to be near John – but, then, it had always felt right. Aiden did not know what he would have done if Mali'ja had tried for John's life – likely something Aiden knew he would have to run from, again. Mali'ja wasn't like that though – she understood the attraction, and John seemed to have rubbed off on her.

As he led John down the halls, John fell into silence, and Aiden tried not to show the shiver when he felt John's power touch him, cradling him like a blanket, then leaving him, lingering only a moment more. He took a breath, knowing as he did so that things would never be the same between them as it had been before. He had given that up. He would miss it.

But…but maybe this would be for the better.

"Don't get me wrong, Aiden – but….why?" John asked after a moment more had passed between them. When he looked to John he saw those dark eyes taking in the ship with a knowledge that chilled Aiden.

John had the sort of power that Mali'ja had – the same sort of knowledge, and with the Ancient genetics, he would be powerful. Either as an enemy, or a friend – Aiden could only hope John was smart enough to know he needed friends. Hoped John would be his friend.

"Its survival, John – nothing personal, I haven't helped them find anyplace they didn't already know about and Mali'ja has no interest in Earth." Aiden knew as he spoke that he was on the defensive, and tried to smile to ease the tenseness between them. John gave him a fleeting smile; it only faded as he saw his friends trapped – guarded by 'drones'

"John!" Teyla cried out upon setting sight on him, Rodney looked relieved, though Ronon gave him a strangely wary look.

"Hey guys – miss me?" John teased, smiling slightly, having found their relief infectious. Aiden only glanced to the 'drones' and the two scampered away hurriedly, finding John intimidating enough, even without the favored of the Queen hovering about. Aiden watched as John approached the cage, and its organic tissues fled, as much aware of John's presence as the drones had been.

"Indeed, we have – what, exactly, is going on?" Ronon asked upon setting sight on Aiden, who felt pinned by the others stare.

"Well, the Queen of this Hive - Mali'ja, apparently wants to teach me…you know …stuff." John made a vague gesture, clearly wanting the topic brushed aside with the motion. Aiden knew well with the glance he exchanged with Ronon that it would not be as easy as that to dismiss what; exactly, "stuff" meant to the Wraith that would be so important as to not outright kill John rather then deal with the threat he would represent.

"That's great and all John – but what is going to happen to us?" Rodney asked somewhat nervously, the other man did not glance away from Aiden – and though Teyla had not spoken, it was clear she had something to say.

"You will stay here as guests." Aiden told him, if only to break the tenseness he felt building against him. As he led them to their chambers, he thought he heard Rodney mutter "meals on wheels", he tried not to chuckle. Let them think that he could not hear them clearly, it gave him a sense of closeness with them – as if they wanted him to hear them, to be apart of the group once more.

He pulled open the door for them, letting them trail into the room in wary regard for it. It was amusing to see, but he knew they would find nothing amiss. Finally, John turned to regard him, unsure of what to say – or do with him. Aiden tried to smile reassuringly, but felt Mali'ja coming forth, and his smile flickered as she appeared. They looked at him as if he had betrayed them. He had not though, and it was then that he knew how much damage he had done and what it would be to repair it all.

"Mali'ja, what can we do for you?" John asked, hesitating only a moment as he regarded her, clearly feeling as if he was on uneven footing. For the first time, the others seemed to see she was disturbed, for she had hid it until it became obvious that doing so in front of John was pointless.

"I have a…proposition…." Aiden took in their suspicion, and when they looked to Mali'ja, he did as well, for he did not have any answers to her particular behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may recognize Queen Mali'ja of the Thori'an Hive, for she was in my other story "The Fly Away Remedy", and mother-Queen of John. Here, she plays the same role, rather then have another name. Names of Queen and Hive come from the phrase "malignant thorn", for she isn't very pleasant to those she sees as rivals or enemies….


	8. Of Wraith and Goa'uld

_Aiden tried to smile reassuringly, but felt Mali'ja coming forth, and his smile flickered as she appeared. They looked at him as if he had betrayed them. He had not though, and it was then that he knew how much damage he had done and what it would be to repair it all._

" _Mali'ja, what can we do for you?" John asked, hesitating only a moment as he regarded her, clearly feeling as if he was on uneven footing. For the first time, the others seemed to see she was disturbed, for she had hid it until it became obvious that doing so in front of John was pointless._

" _I have a…proposition…." Aiden took in their suspicion, and when they looked to Mali'ja, he did as well, for he did not have any answers to her particular behavior._

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

\- **Thori'an Hive Ship** -

"I'm listening." John told her doubtfully, giving the impression that for all he heard her he was not sure he _wanted_ to. Rodney let out a shaky breath, his lips pressing together. He was well known among the Wraith for his mind, for all he know Mali'ja wanted to 'study' him. It would not be the first time.

Aiden, though, knew differently, Mali'ja had her own people she could ask for a weapon, if she got the notion to want one – to his reasoning she would not. If Aiden had betted on such a thing, he would have won it as Mali'ja's next words.

"I have lost contact with my daughter, Poiso'us, she – as most her age do- has left Thori'an to become Queen of her own Hive; that of Cactu'ion. I know where her Hive was last; I merely need someone…neutral…to ensure she is well. This way it will not look as if I do not trust her to make her own way." Mali'ja murmured softly, Teyla's eyes visibly widened, and what Mali'ja said next to her proved all of Aiden's suspicions of her ancestry.

"I have a heart, young one. In that we are no different – do you not rid yourselves of those who threaten you? As I know you do – so do my own people. It is a fact to survival." Mali'ja told them, though her eyes lingered on Teyla long enough to make her uneasy.

"Seems to me most of you don't know the difference between survival and a game." Ronan snarled the words out bitterly, he had right to be bitter but Aiden feared for him all the same in the moment Mali'ja looked coldly to him. She looked at him aloof and full of dignity, as if the words had had no affect on her, though Aiden knew that to be untrue. He saw the moment Mali'ja realized what had happened to Ronan at the hands of her own people.

"Tell me, do you four represent all of humanity that is spread over this galaxy and you're own – as well as your home world?" Mali'ja asked of them, Teyla glanced to Ronan, who shook his own head first. John was the one to speak though, and even if it brought to attention his black eyes and blue hued skin it was no less true.

"No, to claim such would be to claim ourselves fools." Mali'ja smiled slightly, startling them with the too human gesture that had no malice in it. Aiden was relieved; for it seemed to him she was finally getting through them, past their fear and ignorance of her kind.

"Then I ask that you not judge me and mine upon a Hive I myself consider barbaric and war-like. It is true we need to survive, and to survive we must feed, but we need not terrorize and hunt those we feed from like animals. Those among these worlds that the Thori'an and Cactu'ion feed from have sought us out and offered themselves, in exchange we do our best to protect and care for them." Aiden knew there was much that could have been said of those words; a sort of "protection money", or the sheep herder who guarded his flock though all the same intended to slaughter some of them come winter.

None of those accusations or 'suggestions' were spoken aloud, however much Aiden could sense them thought – he did not doubt that Mali'ja sensed those thoughts, though she said nothing.

"Alright..." Ronan, who had been clearly most opposed spoke hoarsely, even so it was a visible effort on his part to put aside what had been his goal for many years, of vengeance against all Wraith. John for his part looked startled, though Aiden suspected that a large part of Ronan had wanted John to see he accepted what his friend had become, however much he didn't like it.

"Not so fast – if we find Poiso'us – what's to say she won't keep us for herself? John is, after all, such a rarity as a human who has become Wraith-like." It was Rodney who had asked this, but Mali'ja merely smiled in a mother like fashion, thinking on her daughter. Then she shook her head, the small smile still lingering though it was darker then it had been.

"Poiso'us has enough trouble managing Cactu'ion, she would not welcome such curiosities as yourselves long once she found what trouble you could be for her and her Hive." Mali'ja was so sure in this they did not bother to question her about it, there were some things a mother knew that strangers did not, most particularly Mali'ja who Aiden was glad to see they were being to see was different then the Wraith they were familiar with.

It was only then that Mali'ja focused once more on John, the smile lingering though it was somewhat amused as well as threatening. John did not in the least seem impressed, merely tilting his head, silently inquiring.

"You want to know what the Thori'an will offer you in return for doing this favor…?" Mali'ja finally spoke aloud what had been going on beneath the surface between the two for the benefit of those who were not Wraith in truth. John flushed, as it had become clear that he had not meant for Mali'ja to pick up on so many of his stray thoughts.

"Well, yes, that's the gist of it." John admitted reluctantly while his team did not stir, having known John would do this if given no other option; even Aiden was not surprised to hear his words, for it was like John to cover all the bases that could be covered before going out to face what he had to do.

"We will protect you from Atlantis – and other Hives among the Wraith – we will teach you the control you need. I offer you the protection of the Thori'an wrath if you come in conflict with another Hive for you will be named my son. If that does not satisfy you, we will make certain the people who rejected you are also taken care of, for all that they would have held you captive till the end of your days you are still strikingly loyal to them. Firstly, we shall help you and my own people by ridding ourselves of the Wraith your kind turned human and called "Michael". That much I can offer, afterwards…we will see what we may do to be rid of the Replicators…." Mali'ja was clearly finished with her offers, and John appeared satisfied with her answers as he slowly nodded in agreement to do as she asked and find Poiso'us the young Queen of Cactu'ion.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

**-Atlantis-**

_Elizabeth motioned Carson closer to her, leaning towards him._

" _I do not think Caldwell is…_ _himself_ _– please_ _discreetly_ _question his crew over his behavior...I want to know if there have been any changes in it in the recent past." Elizabeth whispered in undertone – aware suddenly that someone could be spying on them; Beckett put his childhood acting skills to good use, smiling and nodded, for all that Elizabeth could clearly see his eyes were worried."_

" _I'll do that." Carson murmured softly before standing, leaving Elizabeth's office – his mind racing to piece together what could have caused her to be wary enough to only hint at a possible problem._

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Elizabeth…I think there is something you need to see." Those words, when passed from Beckett's lips, were something she had feared. The civilian leader of Atlantis took a long indrawn breath before looking up to see Beckett's pensive face.

Though she was not surprised by it, John and the others were missed acutely by those of Atlantis who had been familiar of him – it surprised her, how many openly resented Caldwell and his interference.

Caldwell, she feared, was not helping matters any – nor making this easier on anyone. Her people were not military, and until now Atlantis had been mainly civilian run save in times of crises. Caldwell seemed to want to change this too, though he was sure to have good – _logical_ \- reasons for everything if she questioned him.

It did not help that she had her own suspicions of him, but they had been only that – _suspicions_ – until, she feared, now.

"Yes, of course. What have you found out Carson?" Elizabeth asked as the doors whispered shut behind him, wary still Beckett came closer, licking his lips nervously.

"Some of the crew on the Daedalus reports that Caldwell started acting particular only days before they reached us by communication. Say he disappeared for a short bit, told them he was making rounds of the bunks, so they didn't worry till he got here and… _changed_." Beckett told her, voice strained with his tension, he nibbled a bit on his lip before continuing. Some of Elizabeth's heart sank; she had hoped there were only reports from a crew too long in space. She didn't like to think there was something wrong with Caldwell, which, on top of everything else, had him at a high position – his men, and that of Atlantis would pause before they put his actions to question.

"There's more, he checked him and the others that docked with our medical equipment, I think I…I didn't realize until now that I've had reason to look it over, but I'm sure that…that Caldwell is infected with a Goa'uld; it barely shows up in the x-ray, but it's there…" Beckett paused to let the information sink in, and Elizabeth breathed in slowly trying to keep calm – to keep from panicking. She had thought herself merely overly suspicious of someone who held power – who was supposed to work with her – who didn't seem to know the place of the military in relation to the civilians of Atlantis.

"Anything from Earth to indicate he is an agent of the Tok'ra?" Elizabeth asked then, remembering the allies of the Stargate team of Earth, Beckett shook his head eyes showing his regret that this was not the case.

"I've already checked it out, not a whisper." Beckett told her, Elizabeth stood slowly and without a word walked out of her office to where the command was. Some of them stirred, others nodded with polite greeting. None of them knew or suspected what her words were be, though they were trained to deal with extremes nothing quite like this had ever happened.

"Send out a broad-range call to Earth," some of them, Elizabeth saw in a detached sort of way jerked as if she had struck them – it was to be expected – the Wraith had proved to be able to detect and decipher such out going calls nonetheless they were the quickest way to get information to Earth, "tell them Atlantis holds medical proof that the Goa'uld are placed highly in Earth personal from the Daedalus. We will contain the situation as best we can, however reinforcements are advised." Elizabeth knew they quickly suspected who it was she was carefully not referring to by name, and knew it didn't matter that her next orders would confirm it.

"Locate all personal of the Daedalus, have Atlantis military personal handle their transfer to Medical." Elizabeth saw Beckett half nod, already distracted by communication from his labs and Medical personal, he wondered off to them intent on rechecking everyone for those that might be infected by a Goa'uld.

"Ma'am, Daedalus personal report Caldwell is in the Puddle-Jumper hanger…." A technician, her voice high in her agitation, reported. Elizabeth stepped forward absentmindedly patting her on the shoulder, she seemed to mellow, and Elizabeth gestured for one of the others to patch her through to the hanger.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

" _Caldwell, this is Dr. Weir, have you received - and understood - the order to make your way to Medical for a second examination_?" Elizabeth's voice floated through the intercom that linked directly with the Puddle Jumper hanger, though she would not know it until her military personal reported it, two guards lay dead at the door of the hanger. Caldwell snorted softly, knowing the sensitive Ancient system of communication would pick it up.

"I understood the orders just find, Dr. Weir, though I was under the impression I controlled the military personal of Atlantis for the time being." Caldwell mocked, even as he messed with the controls, he had a Goa'uld technology that would trick this "Ancient gene only" Jumper into thinking he was Ancient. He had locked it in place, and then tucked one of the crystals in a sideways position, satisfied, he settled back in the Puddle Jumper chair only to place his hand on the control panel.

" _Daedalus has been compromised by the_ _Goa'uld_." Dr. Weir told him sounding far calmer then she must actually be. He let a smile stretch across his features, it was not a particularly pleasant expression but it was a worthy one. Though Dr. Weir might never know it, he had respected her in the brief moments they had worked to subdue John. She understood necessity, it was too bad Daedalus had been alerted to his presence – it cut off his ability to flee with a manned ship of Earth hostages.

"I assure you, Dr. Weir, there is only one Goa'uld, and he is I." He told her, for a moment she was silent, and he couldn't help but chuckle softly imagining her acceptance of finally being confronted with the truth. She had lied to herself when she had suspected him, only after John was gone had she acted on her hunch unable to act otherwise within her role as leader. That too, he respected.

" _Who are you_?" She sounded defeated, and he did not relish in that.

"I am Duamutef, one of the four sons of Horus. While you have my respect, Dr. Weir, I can not – will not – stand down." He told her even as he opened the hanger from above, which could only be done by someone within the hanger. Gently, with a wary regard for the technology he handled, he lifted the Puddle-Jumper from the ground and urged it out of the hanger before Weir's men could arrive to stop him. It was now only a matter of reaching a planet and changing hosts (preferably one with more knowledge of this system then he currently had), and then he knew Dr. Weir would be unable to find him no matter how hard she looked.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

' _If I had only trusted my instinct, this would never have happened_.' Elizabeth thought, pained, even as she listened and watched as her people went after the vessel and tracked it as best they could. It was a race she did not think they could win.

"Ma'am – Wraith dart spotted, it…it's got Caldwell." The same technician who had been uneasy and testy before told her, this time there was awe in her tone. Elizabeth, frowning, went to where she was stationed looking down at equipment that she was only partly familiar with.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked, keeping accusation carefully from her tone, the tech' gestured to a screen that showed waves, she was startled to see that – without a pilot – the Puddle-Jumper had frozen.

"Just what I said ma'am, it left the Puddle-Jumper but I'm not reading any life signs in it anymore, the Dart must have gotten him." Elizabeth nodded, saying something to tell they had done well and that to keep an eye out even while she retreated to her office, the crises seemingly over.

Elizabeth was not so sure, it haunted her – what would the Wraith do when they found a Goa'uld, the first true enemy of humanity, within Caldwell? Even though she was not familiar with this Goa'uld, as a race they had seemed to all at once make up for dismissing Earth out of hand gathering knowledge of Earth even from its people, undetected by Stargate for too long.

What could the Wraith do to them with the knowledge the Goa'uld this assuredly had had? Elizabeth pressed her lips, wondering if this would turn into the nightmare she feared it would be. How they would survive this, even now, without John and his team…she did not dwell on the sudden hopelessness that gripped her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poiso'us and Cactu'ion, as you might have guessed, are yet another word play on words, this time of "poisonous cactus". By the by, Duamutef really is one of the Egyptian gods and one of the four sons of Horus besides, he is most often represented as the jackal-headed canopic jar which contains the stomach of a mummy.

**Author's Note:**

> This, along with "Lost in Atlantis" and "The Fly Away Remedy" are now among my first attempts at putting Sheppard – or suggesting it, with another male other then Rodney. I'm of the belief that Ronon or Ford would be better suited to him. So, yeah, this is a slash of him and Ronon and (maybe) Ford. I seem to enjoy putting a bit of the Wraith in him. I also thought Wraith-John was kind…sexy-in-a-deadly-way –coughs-.
> 
> In this, the "Wraith-John" can be called a split personality with a hive-like mindset; it is very protective to a murderous degree over what its territory (Atlantis and surrounding galaxy – may later include Milky Way) and its 'family' – what are "Human-John" teammates. "Wraith-John" is a mix of human, Ancient (due to John's natural Ancient genes), and Wraith, of course. It is something of a "Super-Wraith", not needing a Hive, or other Wraith to survive. To me, at least, a Wraiths power among other Wraith would be judged – not by physical strength, but by their mental abilities to reach each other over long distances – since those seemed to be prominent traits passed to Teyla, because through her 'dreams' she saw a Hive.
> 
> These are just my association of the Wraith, of course, and the result of watching a documentary on bees (what? There was nothing else on…) – and then Stargate: Atlantis;
> 
> So some terms that I will use in accordance with the Wraith are;
> 
> "Queen" which is the female leader of the Hive (a Wraith ship),
> 
> "Workers" the male – or non-Queen females, Wraith without 'masks'; Ronon has a history with one – and has John met one – they are intelligent, and can be "Leaders" or "Loners" without a "Queen",
> 
> "Drones" remember the ones with 'masks'? The ones who, when the Wraith were turned human were 'eaten'? Yeah, they have a lesser instinct among the Wraith.
> 
> "Keeper", to me that meant a 'lesser' Queen who kept the Hive alive during a 'famine' – and can 'revive' them when the famine is over.
> 
> To those of you who have read this story before Sept. 2007; you may have noticed some changes, the general gist of the story is the same, this is pre-planned for ten chapters – I will get them up as soon as I can.


End file.
